


I Don't Want to Go On Without You...

by AllHallowsEve



Series: Wincest Colored Glasses [31]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Croatoan Virus, Crying, Demon Virus, Episode: s02e09 Croatoan, Fear, Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sadness, Self Loathing, Self-Doubt, Visions, Wincest - Freeform, fear of dying, so much love it hurts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 18:33:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16000928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllHallowsEve/pseuds/AllHallowsEve
Summary: Sam has another vision.  This one makes Dean look like a cold blooded killer.  They follow the clues to a small town where a virus has caused people to go crazy.  It turns out this is related to the yellow eyed demon in some way.  The brothers' bond is put to the test.Season 2 Episode 9 as seen through Wincest Colored Glasses.





	I Don't Want to Go On Without You...

**Author's Note:**

> There is a short mention of Dean's underage desire for Sam in this. I didn't think it warranted a full underage warning, but I thought I would mention it here in case that might trigger anyone. I never want my story to make anyone uncomfortable so please take heed of that. (of course I want to make people uncomfortable in the best way, through angst and torturous pining, but not in an unwarned triggering kind of way. never that.)
> 
> As always this is unbeta'd. So please let me know if there are any glaring mistakes that take away from the story so I can fix them and make it better for everyone.

Sam fought his way back to consciousness from the vision, just as he heard the door to the room squeak open.

Dean’s heart began to pound as he looked around the room without seeing his brother, only to hear heavy breathing coming from the floor next to one of the beds. 

Sam sat up looking out of breath and confused. 

Dean dropped the beer and snacks he was carrying on the table and hurried to help Sam stand up.  He could tell his brother was wobbly and wasn’t quite over the vision he must have had.  Worry lined Dean’s face as he searched his brother visually to make sure he was unharmed.  It must have been a hell of a vision if it had knocked him to the floor.

Sam was quiet and shaken by the violent image of his brother shooting a man that was begging for his life.  He didn’t share much, only telling Dean they needed to go to Oregon.

Dean made quick work of packing their stuff into the car, refusing to let Sam help until his color returned to normal.  Sam groused about it, but didn’t put up much of a fight, which only served to worry Dean further.

Once they were on the road Sam was still reluctant to share details of his vision but knew it was important if they were going to stop Dean from killing the man in cold blood.  He had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach about this one.  Dean had been acting oddly the last few days and refused to talk about whatever was eating him.

Sam finally explained to his brother that he really didn’t know what was going on at all, other than there was a guy tied to a chair with people standing around and Dean shot him because he thought there was _something_ inside the man. 

Dean pressed him for more answers, sure that the yellow eyed demon must be involved somehow.  He grilled Sam about whether they tried to exorcise the guy, if maybe what was in him was a demon, and Dean’s voice was unusually stern with his brother while he did so.  He pushed, more and more, questioning for details, none of which Sam had any answers to.

Sam’s brow furrowed and his head ached.  He was confused by this vision more than most of his others.  The coldness that had been in Dean’s eyes, even as the man begged for his life, it haunted Sam. 

Dean said that he was sure he had a good reason for shooting the man and Sam couldn’t shake the _wrong_ feeling that had permeated the vision, and it made his voice sound doubtful when he answered, “I sure hope so.”

Dean cut his eyes to the side trying to mask the hurt in his voice as he asked, “What does that mean?

In response to Sam’s silence, Dean’s voice turned defensive, “I’m not gonna waste an innocent man.”

The end of his statement turned up slightly in tone, as if questioning whether his brother believed him. 

Sam again was silent, but his eyebrows went from furrowed to raised, in a questioning manner, as if doubting the validity of his brother’s statement.

Dean angrily said, “I wouldn’t!”

Sam’s voice hitched to prepubescent levels as he defended himself with, “I never said you would.”

Dean’s “Fine,” came out as an admission of defeat.  It sounded angry but that belied the hurt and fear that ripped through the older Winchester at the thought that Sam could actually doubt what kind of a man he was.

Sam’s “Fine” in return still had his voice in a higher octave than he normally spoke because he was freaked out and scared as hell over what was coming for them.  He couldn’t shake this feeling that things weren’t okay in his vision and he needed his brother to make him feel better but knew his own bumbling of this conversation was going to make that impossible. 

He tried to smooth things over by saying, “Look we don’t know what it is,” and his tones were still too high from panic and a need to stop the feeling of this coming situation being out of his control. 

The brothers didn’t recover from the schism cut between them, and the car was heavy with unresolved tension as they drove through the night.

Dean churned on pain, and a feeling of betrayal, that Sam could doubt him in that way, which was only the newest cut to his soul.  It came on top of the already heavy wounds his psyche had been nursing, ever since his disastrous flirting attempt blew up in his face, and made him wonder why he had ever believed Sam could want him in the first place.

Sam’s angst simmered on the sick feeling that he was somehow responsible for what Dean was doing in the vision.  He wasn’t sure how or why he felt that way.  All his visions had been related to the yellow eyed demon so far.  Therefore, it might just be because he felt anything related to the yellow eyed demon was somehow his fault since it was him the demon had plans for. 

Or it could be that there was something wrong between Dean and him, ever since the black dog case turned into a demon deal case.  He could feel the unsettled negativity floating between them and he had no clue why. 

At first he thought he was just off kilter from knowing that Dean wanted to make a deal with a demon for their dad’s return.  That had filled him with a cold sense of fear and dread that was similar to each time Dean had nearly died on him over the past year.  But there was something more now.  Dean had been refusing to meet his gaze a lot more often than normal.  His brother was never one for long glances or shared eye contact unless they were in the middle of a fight and he was sending Sam a message about which way to jump or how to take out the monster.  Dean was notorious for his hate of all chick flick moments, but this was even less eye contact than normal.  It had Sam thrown.

He wondered if maybe Dean had finally sensed his disgusting lust for him, and was trying to figure out what to do.  But Dean hadn’t really stopped doing all the normal things that they did together and if he had even a shred of an idea of all the sick and twisted things Sam wanted to do to Dean, or have Dean do to him, Sam knew his brother would beat the shit out of him and then leave.  So it couldn’t be that.  But if that wasn’t it, then he had no clue what it was.  And then for him to have this horrible confusing vision, it just made him feel lost and alone about all of it.

The sky was damp and gray when the brothers pulled into a parking spot in the town from his vision.  They looked around the area at several people going about their business.  Sam spotted a man on a porch across the street, and told Dean the guy had been in the vision.

They walked over to him, introducing themselves as U.S. Marshalls and asked about the young man from Sam’s vision.  He didn’t trust them at first, but Dean noticed his military tattoo, correctly calling him Master Sergeant, and explaining his dad had been in the corp too.   After some coaxing on Dean’s part, Sarge reluctantly gave them the man’s name as Duane Tanner, eventually telling them they could find him with his family on a street called Aspen Way.

As they walked in the direction the man indicated, Sam happened to see the word Croatoan carved into one of the telephone poles along the sidewalk.  He pointed it out to Dean who served him up a helping of blank face in response.

After being dismayed by how it seemed Dean had picked up most of his history knowledge from Schoolhouse Rock, Sam went on to explain that Roanoke was one of the first English colonies in America in the 1500s.  It was enough to jar Dean’s memory allowing him to piece together the part about Croatoan being carved into a tree as the only thing left behind when all the townsfolk disappeared.

They discussed the possibility that maybe something like that might be about to happen to this town, and Sam suggested they might need help with this one.  So Dean tried to call Bobby or Ellen for backup but he couldn’t get a signal at all on his cell.  Sam checked his and had no luck either.  Dean walked a few feet to where a phone booth stood and checked it but there was no service to it either.

Both men began to get a panicky feeling and their breathing quickened to an almost matching pace.  Their jaws tightened in frustration and Dean told Sam that if he were going to massacre a town, cutting all the lines of communication would indeed be his first step. 

They decided to go ahead and follow their only lead without back up, since Sam’s visions rarely gave them any spare time to leave town and seek help.  They did circle back to the Impala to take it and the arsenal in its trunk instead of going on foot the way they had initially planned to.  They checked the phone book and found the address easily enough which lead them to a cozy home tucked away from the road with trees and greenery all around.  A young man answered the door and told them he was Duane’s brother when they asked for Duane.  He said Duane was on a fishing trip so he wasn’t at home.  Sam asked if his parents were home and he said yes but when the father came to the door, he said his wife wasn’t there.  The brothers walked away both feeling like something was definitely off with the Tanners.

They circled around to the back of the house and peered inside one of the curtain clad windows.  They watched as the father cut into the son’s arm and let the blood drip down onto a woman tied to a chair. The Winchesters charged into the house and when the father ran at them with the knife raised, they both opened fire into the older man’s chest.  Instead of attacking, the younger Tanner jumped through the window and down into the yard.  Sam ran over with his gun raised but couldn’t bring himself to shoot the boy in the back, without knowing more about what was happening.

They loaded Mrs. Tanner into the car and took off to a clinic on the main road of town.  Sam helped her inside while Dean carried Mr. Tanner’s dead body in after them.  They were instructed where to go and after Dean put the body on a table in one of the empty exam rooms the brothers watched as Dr. Lee treated Mrs. Tanner’s wounds.  They listened as she described that one minute the men had been her husband and son and then suddenly, as she put it, “they had the devil in them.”

Dean told Sam they needed to talk and turned and walked out of the room, Sam followed quietly on his heels.  They discussed the possibility that what could be going on was a mass possession by multiple demons.  Dean thought it was a good way to destroy a town from the inside out.  But Sam balked saying that there wasn’t demon smoke when Mr. Tanner was killed and none of the usual other demon signs at all.

Dean said it didn’t really matter because something turned the men into monsters.  Then he turned and let Sam know how unhappy he was that Sam had let the second attacker get away.  Sam became defensive saying he hesitated because it was a kid, and Dean told him it wasn’t a kid, that it was, in fact, an _it_.  He followed up the statement by looking his brother right in the eye and saying harshly, “It’s not the best time for a bleeding heart, Sam.”

The statement held the weight of history and accusations from long before today, and echoed John Winchester’s voice up and down Sam’s spine.  His heart sank, but before he had a chance to react, the doctor came storming out from the back room asking what had happened.  They told her they didn’t know and she informed them that they had killed her next door neighbor.  It didn’t make either brother feel better, but Dean assured her they didn’t have a choice.  She told them they needed the County Sheriff and the Coroner.  But they informed her that the phones were down.  Dean asked her how far it was to the next town and she told him it was only about forty miles.

Dean told her he would head there for help.  He slapped his palm heavily down on Sam’s shoulder saying his partner would stay and keep them safe.

The doctor asked alarmed, “Safe from what?”

Dean turned back to them just as he was reaching the open doorway and said off the cuff, “We’ll get back to you on that.”

 

 

Dean took off down the road pushing Baby hard, not wanting to leave Sam any longer than he had to.  He stopped the car behind another car that looked abandoned in the middle of the highway.  He pulled out his sawed off and walked slowly up to the car.  The seats were all drenched in blood including a baby seat in the back.  There was broken glass everywhere and a bloody knife on the ground but no signs of anyone around.

 

 

Sam stayed in the room with the doctor as she did tests on the dead man.  She told him the man’s lymphocyte percentage was high, from his body fighting off a viral infection.  Sam asked her if she thought a virus could cause him to act the way he did.  She told him she had never heard of one that caused that kind of violence.

Sam felt an unhappy chill when the doctor described another anomaly to the blood, saying there was a weird residue that reminded her of sulfur that the virus seemed to be leaving behind.  He wasn’t sure what it meant other than it seemed more and more certain that it had something to do with the yellow eyed demon.

 

 

Dean got back into the car and took off down the road headed again for the next town over, but it wasn’t long before he came around a bend and saw three vehicles pulled across both lanes completely blocking the bridge out of town. 

There were a group of men gathered around the vehicles brandishing various firearms in a menacing fashion.  He stopped and let Baby idle while he tried to decide his best play.   He realized one of the armed men was the kid Sam let get away earlier. 

His heart jumped nearly out of his chest when a guy came out of nowhere and knocked on the roof of the car.  Dean played it cool, laughing it off.  The man leaned down and told him the road was closed.  Dean asked him why and the guy explained there was a quarantine issued by the county sheriff.  He asked Dean to get out of the car but again Dean blew him off with a quip of, “Well you are a handsome devil, but I don’t swing that way, sorry.”

The guy insisted but Dean put Baby in reverse and the guy grabbed on to the door as Dean dragged him backwards alongside the car.  He hoped and prayed that none of the shots the assholes blocking the road took hit Baby and damaged her mostly fresh paint.  The guy was finally slung off the side as Dean spun the car into a 180 degree reverse arc and drove off at top speed back the way he had come.

 

 

Sam watched quietly as Dr. Lee explained to Mrs. Tanner about the potential of her husband and son having a disease.  She panicked when she realized that the doctor thought she might have caught whatever it was.  But the doctor gently asked her if she could draw a blood sample to find out for sure.  Mrs. Tanner shook her head yes but then grabbed the doctor and knocked her violently to the ground.  Sam lunged at her to intervene but with superhuman strength  she threw him across the room into a metal and glass cabinet.  She came at him with a scalpel, screaming like a wild animal, and Sam grabbed a fire extinguisher from against the wall and knocked her out with it.

 

 

Dean pulled into the outskirts of the city but was met by Sarge, the first man they had met in town, standing in the middle of the street with a rifle aimed right at Dean’s head.  Dean stepped out of the car but left it running and as his arm cleared the door, he pulled his gun on the man.  It was a standoff and they asked each other if they were “one of them,” both denying that they were.  They exchanged info about what they had found out and Dean convinced the man to come with him to the doctor’s office.  They kept each other at gunpoint the entire drive back, neither trusting the other fully.

 

 

Sam had spent quite a bit of time searching through John’s journal, hoping for any clue about what might be going on or what to do about it.  He took a break when he realized he had gleaned all he could from that limited source. 

He sat with his back against the wall watching the doctor and her assistant as they talked.  Pam, the assistant, began to panic asking what if they were all infected.  The doctor tried to keep her calm, but the young woman just got more and more agitated finally saying she had to leave to find her boyfriend.  She ran from the room and Sam followed her asking her to stay, trying to assure her that help was coming.  He heard the rumble of the Impala outside moments before Dean yelled for him to open up.

Sam huffed in relief, moving quickly to unlock the outer door.  Sam asked the two men if they had gotten to a phone but Dean explained that the road had been blocked.  Dean sent Sarge into the clinic telling him the doc was inside. Dean stayed back in the outer area to talk things out with Sam.  He was so relieved to see Sam alive and unharmed but he couldn’t stop pacing.  He didn’t like what was happening and told Sam that Sarge was the only sane person he could find.  He asked Sam if he knew what they were dealing with yet and Sam told him the doctor thought it was a virus.

Dean turned and walked closer to his brother.  He looked up at him and asked, “What do you think?”

Sam told him he thought the doctor was right.  That it was a virus but not just any virus, one that the infected people were trying to spread by blood to blood contact.  He also told Dean that the virus left traces of sulfur in the blood.  Sam described it as demonic germ warfare, and explained that he had found information in their Dad’s journal about Croatoan and how John had suspected it was a demon’s name, one of plague and pestilence. 

Dean wanted to know why it was happening here and now, but Sam had no answers for that, only saying that they needed to get out and warn people because it could spread far and wide.

Before they could make any plans for what to do next, Sarge called out from the back saying there was an infected person inside.  Dean asked what he meant and Sam explained that Mrs. Tanner had been infected and they locked her in a back room.  Sarge told them that the neighbors he had to take out earlier had been exceptionally strong and that the longer they let her live, the stronger she would become.

Sam asked the doctor if she could cure the disease, and the doctor freaked out saying she didn’t even know what it was.  Pam argued that they couldn’t just kill Beverly Tanner, that they shouldn’t kill her, they should just leave her locked up.  But Sarge insisted that it was only a matter of time before she broke out and attacked them.

Dean and Sam worked like the well oiled machine they were and moved together to the door.  Sam opened it while Dean took point, then allowing Sarge to move in for the kill.  But Beverly spoke to him, tried to convince him that it was all the rest of them that were infected not her. She begged him for her life and it became obvious that he was unable to pull the trigger at someone who wasn’t actively a threat. 

Dean asked Sam if he were sure she was one of them.  Sam hated to have to do it but he assured Dean she was.  That was all the proof Dean needed and he stepped through, past Sarge, took aim and shot the woman three times ending her threat.

The brothers went to the Impala and gathered all their weapons and brought them into the clinic.  Sarge, or Mark, as Beverly had called him, kept watch out front while Sam and Dean prepped the arsenal, taking stock of what all was available.  They ran to the back when Pam shrieked out.  She had been carrying infected blood but had dropped the vials on the floor and she was panicking thinking some might have gotten on her.  The doctor assured her she was okay, that none of it had, but the young woman wouldn’t calm down, insisting they should leave.

Sam turned to Dean and told him he thought she was right about leaving.  That staying where they were wasn’t an option long term.  They needed to get out and get somewhere like the Roadhouse so they could warn people about what was coming.  Sarge told them he didn’t think they really had a choice because lots of people around the area were good with guns and they were basically surrounded, making them easy targets if they tried to leave.

He said even with all the weapons gathered, they didn’t really have an out unless they had some explosives tucked away.  Sam began looking around the room his mind clicking away on possible options.  Dean looked up at Sam and watched his brother’s expression change as he looked at something behind Dean. 

Dean waited patiently, having seen Sam’s thinking face a million times over the year.  He watched as the gears turned in Sam’s head.  His brother’s brilliance never ceased to amaze Dean, and he wished he could spend his life just gazing at that gorgeous face. 

Sam said in a quiet certain voice, “We could make some,” and walked over to the metal shelves behind Dean, holding various medicinal chemicals.  He picked up a bottle of Potassium Chlorate, but before they could discuss it further there was a loud knocking at the front of the clinic and someone began to plead loudly for them to let him in.

The three men ran to the front and Sarge said it was Duane Tanner.  He unlocked the door and let the man inside.  Dean asked Sam if that was the guy he killed in Sam’s vision and Sam told him it was.  Dean insisted that the doctor take him in the back and check him out.  He told them he had been fishing out of town and came back this afternoon to see a neighbor being pulled out of his house and cut on by a group of people.  He said he ran and was hiding in the woods ever since.  He asked if anyone had seen his parents.

The doctor began looking him over and realized he had a cut on his leg and was bleeding.  Dean pulled his gun and asked him if anyone bled on him, telling Sarge to tie the man up.  Duane assured them no one had gotten blood on him, saying that he must have just fallen while trying to get away.

Sam asked the doctor if there was a test to know for sure if he had been infected.  She told them that it took three hours for the sulfur to show up in Beverly’s blood.  Duane heard that and realized they were talking about his mom.  She said there was no way to know until after someone turned whether they were infected or not, because of the incubation period.

Sam told Dean he needed to talk to him and they left Sarge to take care of Duane.  The brothers walked out into the waiting area and Sam told Dean his vision was happening.  Sam told Dean he couldn’t kill the guy until they knew for sure, that they should just keep him tied up.  Dean fought him on it, saying they had every reason to be pretty sure.  They couldn’t afford to wait until he hulked out and infected someone else.

Dean started to walk off and do what needed to be done, but Sam put his hand out and stopped him.  Dean looked directly into Sam’s eyes and said, “Hey, look man.  I’m not happy about this, okay, but it’s a tough job and you know that.”

There was a bite to his tone, part bitter, part controlled rage, simmering just under the surface.

Dean knew he was close to losing it, but didn’t know why.  This entire job had him unsettled.  He had been on edge since Sam had made it clear he had no feelings for Dean other than as a brother.  That entire fiasco had made Dean question himself.  Question his instincts.  He had no clue how he could have been so wrong, so blind to the truth.  He felt stupid and scared at how badly he had almost screwed up believing Sam could ever want him the way his own twisted up soul wanted Sam.  And then knowing his father was in hell being tortured, and he could have saved him, could have traded his own soul for John’s freedom.  That had been eating away at him too.  The combination had his nerves so taut that he could barely function and then for Sam to have yet another vision, bringing his father’s last instructions flooding back into Dean’s already frayed psyche, it was too much.

Sam looked at his brother, unsure what was happening but knowing he had to stop Dean, stop his vision from happening, otherwise why was he sent the vision in the first place?  His frustration came out in his voice, “It’s supposed to be tough, Dean.  We’re supposed to struggle with this.  That’s the whole point.”

Dean never broke the eye contact when he asked, “What does that buy us?”

Sam’s face was a ball of confusion.  “A clear conscience for one.”

Dean’s eyebrows rose in surprise and he had to swallow down the urge to laugh in his brother’s face.  His conscience hadn’t been clear since the first time after he hit puberty that he got a hard on from Sam climbing into his lap.  Since the first time he realized that he found Sam to be the most beautiful thing on this entire planet. 

Throw on top of all that guilt, the fact that right now his father was rotting in hell because of Dean, and there was no way he would ever have a clear conscience for the rest of his life.  He didn’t even remember what that felt like.

“Ah it’s too late for that.”   He made to move past Sam but once again Sam pushed his brother back, stopping his momentum.

Sam’s voice rose as he asked angrily, “What the hell’s happened to you?”

Dean’s brow furrowed and his face morphed into the beginnings of real anger as he asked, “What?”

Sam berated his brother, his voice reaching a tone of desperation, “You might kill an innocent man and you don’t even care.”  He managed just a breath before getting to the real crux of his fear.  “You don’t act like yourself anymore, Dean.”

Sam added in a last ditch effort to break through Dean’s wall.  “Hell, you’re acting like one of those things out there.”

Dean did his best to swallow down the rage that was rising higher and higher inside him.  He wanted to punch Sam right in the mouth, but chose to just make an mmmhmm sound as he tried once more to get by the taller man.

Sam made a move to stop him again but Dean used Sam’s own momentum and threw him across the room out of his way.  He made it to the door before Sam recovered enough to come after him.  He shut it behind him and locked it from the outside.

Sam yelled at him to stop, to open the door, not to do it.  But Dean just checked his gun and walked back into the room where the others all stood around Duane tied to a chair.

Duane saw what Dean was about to do, and started pleading, promising him it wasn’t in him.  He tried to convince Dean to ask the doctor but the doctor just said she couldn’t tell.  He cried and begged Dean not to do it.  Dean gritted his teeth and raised the gun, saying he had no choice. 

He watched the tears streak down the man’s face as he aimed down at the man, he struggled, hearing Sam’s voice in his head, saying he was like the infected people outside.  Suddenly his memory flew back to Sam in the car, his eyebrows raised in doubt when Dean said he wouldn’t kill an innocent man, and Sam’s silence showing his uncertainty in the truth of that statement.

He remembered Sam’s revulsion at his flirty teasing and knew Sam was right, that he was a monster.  His lip quivered in determination, trying to force himself to do what needed to be done, but he kept seeing Sam’s shocked face as he said Dean was going to kill an innocent man and Sam actually believed he didn’t care if that was true.  The look of disappointment that had been writ large across his beloved Sam’s face was what finally broke him.  His grip on his gun caused it to begin to shake, and he gave up, saying, “Damn it.”

He walked back out of the room and unlocked the door.   Sam’s face brightened in relief.  Dean looked at Sam harshly and said, “I don’t wanna hear it.”

He stormed off to the front of the building to try to calm himself down.  His hands were still shaking and his whole body had the jitters from the adrenaline dump he was experiencing.  He checked outside and saw a group of the infected gathered across the street.  He tried to focus on ideas of escape or how they might try to distract the ones they could see, but he kept coming back to the fact that they didn’t know how many they couldn’t see that might also be out there.

He heard steps that he knew the sound of all too well coming up behind him quietly.  He took a deep breath.  _Sam just never listened._

He refused to turn around, even when Sam cleared his throat. 

Sam began talking to his back.  It was something he was used to doing when things got hard for Dean. 

“You did the right thing you know.” 

Dean would have preferred a punch to the gut to the sound of compassion coming from his brother right now.  He had failed.  His one job was keeping Sam safe and now he had allowed someone, who was potentially infected, to live and Duane could be gaining enough strength even right now to break his bonds and infect the lot of them.  Dean didn’t see how in the world that could be the right thing to do.

But Sam’s voice was calm and sure.  “I’m sorry for what I said back there.  I know you would never knowingly kill an innocent man.  I know you were just trying to do whatever it took to keep everyone safe.”

Dean hung his head.  He didn’t know what to say to that.  He didn’t know how to go back to being comfortable around Sam.  Something had broken inside him when he allowed his heart to believe it was possible for the two of them to be together in the way he had always dreamed of, longed for.  When Sam proved how wrong he was, something broke deep down inside Dean and he didn’t know if he would ever be the same again.  He didn’t know how to go back to it being easy to swallow it all down, to not let it show and just live day to day accepting what he did get to have with Sam, just being grateful that his brother was even there by his side.

He shook his head trying to brush away all those thoughts.  The message was for himself as much as it was for Sam when he turned and brusquely walked away saying over his shoulder, “We don’t have time for any of this bullshit Oprah feel good moments crap.”

Sam stood stunned for a second before he heard his brother from the other room calling, “Move your ass Sam, we’ve gotta come up with a plan.”

Dean asked Sam how to make the explosives that he had mentioned earlier and they both got to work on prepping the chemicals.  They proceeded to do what Winchesters do best which was to ignore the turmoil they were feeling inside to address the work at hand that needed doing.

Dean was good at following instructions and got to work filling the bottles in the precise mixtures Sam informed him they needed and they worked together silently until Doctor Lee came in and told them it had been over four hours and Duane’s blood was still clean.  She didn’t think he was infected and wanted to untie him if they approved.

Dean looked to Sam who was already staring in his direction.  Sam was watching Dean for his reaction.  Dean didn’t say anything, but just dropped his head and began focusing back on the chemicals in his hands. 

Sam answered her question with a quiet, “Sure, yeah.”

Sam had waited long enough, he couldn’t stand the silence between them any longer.  He told his brother, “You know I’m gonna ask you why.”

Dean kept his eyes firmly planted on the bottle and funnel in his hands as he said in a tone both sad and resigned, “Yeah, I know.”

Sam studied his brother for a moment longer, hoping he would say more, but not really expecting him to be forthcoming without Sam forcing the issue.

Sam’s tone was soft, almost a whisper as he asked, “So why, why didn’t you do it?”

Dean finally raised his eyes without fully raising his head, not ready to see whatever was waiting there patiently on Sam’s face.

He looked back down before really allowing himself to take any of his brother’s visage in.  He coughed a tiny breath out, trying to buy more time.  He said only, “We need more alcohol.”

Sam watched him for a few more seconds, waiting and hoping there was a real answer coming but at Dean’s continued silence and his refusal to make eye contact, Sam sighed, then turned to walk out of the room to retrieve what was asked of him.

Dean finally allowed himself to look up, watching his brother’s back as he walked away.  Dean feared that sight might be the only one he continued to see if he didn’t get his runaway emotions in check somehow. 

Sam walked into the dispensary and asked Pam how she was holding up as he walked by her towards the chemicals he needed.

She said good and that it would all be over soon as she walked to the reinforced door shutting them both in and turning the lock. 

Sam was deep in thought about Dean’s troubling behavior and his inability to be honest about what was going on with him so he didn’t register what she had said or done until it was too late.

She stepped closer to him as he turned back towards the door with the bottles of alcohol he had retrieved from the shelf.  She told him she had been waiting for this.  His brain finally clicked in to what was in front of him, instead of what was haunting his heart. 

His brow furrowed in confusion as he asked, “For what?”

And she looked up at him calmly and said, “To get you alone.”

Her serene countenance morphed into one of angry rage as she lunged at him, knocking him backwards and down onto the floor.  The noise of her screams brought Dean and Sarge to the door. 

Pam sliced a line across Sam’s chest and then a matching one across her palm and brought the two together just a second before Dean busted the door open with a vicious kick and shot her three times in the back.

Sam looked up at Dean, breathing hard and holding the wound on his chest.  He reached his cast wrapped arm towards Dean for help getting up.  Dean’s eyes were round and open with worry and shock as he instinctually moved his own hand down to grasp the one Sam had outstretched. 

Sarge put a hand on Dean’s shoulder, jerking him back from the move he was making, saying sadly, “She bled on him.  He’s got the virus.”

Sam dropped his hand as he stared up at the love of his life in horror.  Dean turned back to look down at the only person he had ever truly loved, with the entire breadth and depth of his being, and was suddenly lost.

All the remaining people gathered in the exam room around Sam.  The doctor examined his wound and gave him a pad to hold against it.  Dean asked her to check the wound again but she didn’t make a move.  Dean yelled harshly, “Doctor!”

Sam refused to meet Dean’s eyes.  He felt shame and sadness at his stupidity for not seeing the attack coming.  He was done and his life was over and all he could think was how much he just wanted to be alone with Dean and tell him the truth.  The words that he had said over Dean’s dying body all those months ago ached to come out once more.  He didn’t want to leave this earth without Dean knowing how he truly felt about him.  Part of him hated himself for wanting that, for wanting to ruin what they had, ruin Dean’s vision of him, before he died, for nothing, but his heart kept telling him it was the right thing to do.  That Dean deserved the truth.  It was the least he could do after all Dean had done for him his entire life.  But part of him didn’t want hate and revulsion to be the last thing he saw in Dean’s eyes before he died.  So he stayed quiet and couldn’t bear to meet his brother’s worried anxious expression.

The doctor moved towards Sam but didn’t touch him.  Sarge asked in a stern voice, “What does she need to examine him for?  You saw what happened.”

The doctor asked Sam in a concerned voice, if Pam’s blood actually entered his wound, but before Sam could form any words of reply Sarge’s voice yelled out, “Come on, of course it did!”

Dean stubbornly said, “We don’t know that for sure.”

Duane said, “We can’t take a chance.”

Sam stole a glance up at his brother, taking in his stressed out body, muscles taut ready to take on everyone in the room if he had to, just to protect him.

As both men continued to argue against Dean, he turned on them and said matter of factly, “Nobody is shootin my brother.”

He continued to rail against both men getting angrier and angrier. 

Duane heatedly accused Dean of wanting to shoot him, and Dean turned his wrath full force against the young man raising his finger in his direction, spitting out, “If you don’t shut your pie hole I still might.”

Dean was ready for them, and was close to pulling his gun.  Sam could tell things were escalating to the point of violence, he knew his brother too well.

Sam looked up at his brother and said in a resolute sad whisper, “Dean they’re right.”

But when Dean turned back to face Sam, Sam dropped his eyes again in shame.  He couldn’t stand for Dean to look at him and how badly he had failed. 

He hung his head and stared at Dean’s knees as he said , “I’m infected.”

His tone became more determined, taking on a hard conviction as he stated, “Just give me the gun, and I’ll do it myself.”

His brother stubbornly said, “Forget it.”

Sam met his eyes then, looking up from under his too long bangs, he let his own anger at the situation come out as he said, “Dean, I’m not gonna become one of those things.”

Dean spread his arms palms up in a helpless gesture saying, “Sam, we’ve still got some time.”

Sarge couldn’t take it any longer, he asked “Time for what?” 

He told Dean he understood it was his brother and that he was truly sorry it happened, but he had to take care of this.  He pulled his gun out of his belt and went to aim it at Sam.

Dean’s eyes took on a cold empty quality and his voice dropped to a dangerous tone as he said, “I’m gonna say this one time.”

He turned his shoulders and pointed his finger at Sarge as he threatened, “You make a move on him, you’ll be dead before you hit the ground.  You understand me.”

Dean’s upper body leaned towards the older man as he spit out viciously, his voice little more than a growl, “Do I make myself clear?”

Sam yelled out, “Dean!”  at the same time as Sarge yelled angrily, “What are we supposed to do?”

It echoed in the silence that followed.

Dean turned and faced Sam, who still was having trouble making eye contact, reminding Dean of a scared wounded broken animal, which made all of this even worse.  He thought of his little brother standing toe to toe with their old man, screaming fiercely into John’s face.  A man who would make a three hundred pound biker cower just from the wrong look.  But his Sammy stood his ground with that man day in and day out for years before he took off for Stanford. 

Something had broken in Sam after their father died.  Sam lost some of his self assurance and it had been evident on and off throughout their time together, but this, this hunched huddled version of Sam was hurting Dean in ways he couldn’t describe.

Sam watched Dean without meeting his eyes, saw how Dean struggled to come up with an answer before he reached into his pocket and pulled out the keys to the Impala.  Dean threw them at Sarge and said, “Get the hell out of here, that’s what.”

Sam was shell shocked, unsure he was hearing his brother correctly as Dean instructed all of them to take the explosives and the arsenal and leave.

Sarge asked Dean, “What about you?”

Dean just looked at the older man and his silence was answer enough.

Sam whispered, “Dean, no.”

Then his voice got stronger, “No.”

He met Dean’s eyes, determination plain on his face, he wouldn’t allow his brother to sacrifice himself needlessly just to keep him company as he died.  Sam said desperately, “Go with them, this is your only chance.”

Dean looked down at his little brother and put all the bravado he could muster over his broken heart, and said, “Ah, you’re not gonna get rid of me that easy.”

Sarge told Dean that Sam was right, that Dean should come with them, but once Dean turned his eyes on the older man again, the certainty the man saw there answered the question without Dean saying a word.

Sam looked up at the older man his teary eyes pleading with the man to convince Dean, opening wider in shock when he realized Sarge wouldn’t.

Sam could do nothing but struggle against the tears that were pooling in his eyes as he watched Dean walk behind the group as one by one they left.  Dean closed the door behind them and locked his only path to safety.

Dean turned and closed his eyes, letting out a breath slowly before meeting Sam’s sad countenance.  He tried for a lighthearted tone as he said, “Wish we had a deck of cards or a foosball table of something,” walking towards Sam, chuckling bitterly as he finished the sentence.

He took up his former stance in front of Sam who was seated on the examination table.  Sam looked up at Dean, the tears in his eyes making him seem so young as he begged in a painful whisper, “Dean, don’t do this.”

Dean looked into Sam’s eyes as Sam continued, “Just get the hell out of here.”

Dean stated resolutely, “No way.”  He swallowed, having a hard time fighting back his own tears.

He watched as Sam fought to get the words out, he licked his lips and swallowed, struggling around the coating of unshed tears making his throat thick, he managed, “Give me my gun and leave.”

Dean stared at his brother being so brave, as he always was, this time being willing to end his own life to save Dean.  Dean’s countenance took on a hard stony tenor, he no longer looked on the verge of tears, instead it was the face he wore to take on monsters.  The one Sam always saw the moment before Dean placed his body between Sam and whatever they were fighting.

Dean said stubbornly, “For the last time Sam, no.”

He shook his head and turned his back on his baby brother, walking towards the opposite side of the room.

Sam’s face curled up in rage his lips pulling back in a snarl as he threw down the icepack bandage combo he had been holding against his wound, it made a loud bang as it slapped against the floor.

Dean turned his rugged determined countenance towards Sam and watched his brother breathe hard, fighting against tears and the certainty of his own death, and his need to not hurt Dean in the process.  Sam had no idea what to say, knowing when Dean got this way, nothing on heaven and earth could change his mind.

Sam decided on, “This is the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.”

Dean allowed his face to soften then, as he said, “I don’t know about that.”

He took a beat and then followed up with, “Remember that waitress in Tampa?” Ending the sentence with a shiver of his entire torso and an _uhh_ sound to show his distaste at the memory.

The tears were flowing freely now down Sam’s cheeks as he looked up at his idiot brother in disbelief.  He whispered, “Dean, I’m sick, it’s over for me.”

He looked up longingly, desperate for the right thing to say to convince Dean to save himself.  “It doesn’t have to be for you.”

Dean asked with a serious tone, “No?”

Sam said through tears, “No, you can keep going.”

Dean didn’t miss a beat when he said, letting the full emotion of what he was feeling come out in his voice, breathy and desperate, “Who says I want to?”

He looked straight into Sam’s pleading eyes and watched as confusion filled them.

Sam asked in shock, “What?”  Sure that he had misunderstood what his brother had said at first.

Dean’s jaw clenched, his teeth grinding together as he bit back the words and tried to figure out how to express all he wanted to.

This was it, this was where his entire life had been leading.  His heart had never been so sure of anything, ever, but if this was it, and they were going to die here today, he couldn’t let that happen without telling Sam the truth.  He couldn’t die without confessing all the darkness in his heart that he had carried around so long.  He needed Sam to know, even if he died hating him, he had to tell him just what Sam meant to him, before death stole him away.

His heart was heavy with sadness and fear and longing as he turned from his brother to walk towards the far wall. 

Sam watched in silence, feeling dizzy and off kilter, not from the poison infection flowing through his veins but from the words hanging unspoken between them.  He didn’t know what was coming but somehow his heart knew this was the most important conversation they had ever shared.

Dean turned back to take in his beloved’s countenance as he pulled his gun from where it rested at the small of his back in the waistband of his pants.  He sat on the edge of the desk across from Sam and began to speak. 

He started with the easiest, smiling around the words, “I’m tired Sam.”

As he chuckled, he continued, “I’m tired of this job, this life, this weight on my shoulders, man. I’m tired of it.”

Tears poured down Sam’s face, “So, what?  So you’re just gonna give up?” 

Disbelief poured out of him, this wasn’t his brother, Dean never ever gave up, not for any reason.  “I mean, you’re just gonna lay down and die?”

Sam tried to reason with him, explaining that he knew that Dean was messed up about their Dad sacrificing himself and making a deal for Dean, but before he could get very far Dean interrupted him.

He stared down at the floor as he stated flatly, his voice gravelly, “You’re wrong.”

Dean glanced up at Sam’s tear streaked face and then cut his eyes away, not able to face him as he said, “It’s not about dad.”

His eyes looked around, needing something to focus on, unable to face Sam for the next harder part of the truth. “I mean part of it is, sure.”

Sam broke in, frantically needing to understand, “Then what is it about?”

Dean’s tongue began to wrap around the words, “I’m in love with you Sammy,” but before they could cross his lips there was a clattering farther off in the clinic and the sound of heels hitting tile as someone made their way towards the locked door. 

It drew both men’s attention away from the vulnerability they were sharing and put Dean on high alert as he grabbed both guns and walked towards the door.  Before he reached it, an insistent knocking began against the metal and the doctor peered in through the small window.

Dean unlocked the door and the doctor said, “You better come see this.”

The brothers followed her down the hall and out onto the sidewalk.  The other two men were already gathered there.  The road was eerily silent and there was a misty fog rolling in, but no one else was around.  The doctor informed the Winchesters that all the infected people were just gone, they had all vanished and weren’t to be found anywhere.

They waited at the clinic for five more hours and the doctor tested Sam’s blood again.  It was still empty of the sulfur or any other signs of the virus.  Sam asked her how that could be possible when he was definitely exposed to the virus.  She said she didn’t know, but leaned over the second microscope to tell him how different it was when it was compared to the Tanner blood samples, but the phrase died in her throat.

Instead with a shocked voice she exclaimed, “What the hell?”

Sam looked at her with shell shocked alarm in his eyes and asked, “What?”

She told him there was no longer any trace of the virus in their blood either.

Once the sun came up, Sam sat on the hood of the Impala as Dean stood nearby.  They watched Duane and Sarge take off together both just wanting to get as far away from this place as possible.  The doctor told them she was going to head to the next town over to get the authorities to come check out the place, if she could get anyone to believe what happened.

Dean asked her if Sam would be okay and she assured them both he would be, because there were no signs of the infection at all.  She walked back inside the clinic and once the brothers were alone, Dean turned a questioning eye to Sam.

His brother looked up at him and his face was open and honestly confused.  He answered the only way he knew how, “Hey man, don’t look at me.  I’ve got no clue.”

Dean began a diatribe of questions about this case, telling his brother he would lose sleep over all of them. 

Sam responded with an important question of his own, “Why was I immune?”

As Dean made his way to his side of the vehicle before he climbed in, he turned and told Sam that that was a very good question.  His voice was tense when he added, “You know, I am already starting to feel like this one was the one that got away.”

He got in behind the wheel and didn’t realize how worried Sam’s face was as he too stood up and made his way to get inside.  Dean took off down the road. 

They didn’t talk much, both of them were lost in their own thoughts. 

Dean couldn’t believe how close he had come to telling Sam everything.  He wasn’t sure whether he was relieved or disappointed.  This new level of discontent about loving Sam in secret, was wearing on his already frayed nerves.

Sam’s mind was an exhausted jumbled mess.  He didn’t know what Dean had been ready to tell him, and desperately wanted to find out, but knew the odds of his brother opening back up now were slim to none.  He couldn’t believe how close he had been to dying.  And the fact that Dean wouldn’t leave him while that happened.  Dean didn’t want to go on without him.  That kept playing over and over in his mind on a loop.  The way Dean had looked at him when he said that.  Sam couldn’t shake the feeling that Dean had been about to reveal something life changingly significant.  Sam couldn’t quite catch his breath every time he thought about the way Dean looked and sounded in that moment when he has said, “Who says I want to.”

He felt that Dean had shown him a part of himself that Sam had never been privy to before, but Sam couldn’t quite make out what it was.   It reminded him of when he used to love looking at the magic eye posters when he was younger.  He was always really quick to pick out the image behind the picture.  But Dean’s message was harder to read, he had no idea what his brother was going to share with him, and his heart kept beating wildly every time he thought about it.

His mind couldn’t stay focused on anything for more than a few moments.  It bounced from Dean and all the scary confusing questions he had about that to the bizarre events of the last day and night.  His nerves were shot and the thought that this demon plague was connected in some way to the yellow eyed demon haunted him.  He felt like his immunity to it was somehow further proof that he was wrong, bad, damaged goods, and that brought him back to how much he wanted Dean.  How much he longed to reach across the seat and stroke Dean’s cheek.  How much he wished Dean would throw his arm across the seat and jerk his head to indicate he wanted Sam to come snuggle against his side. 

Sam didn’t realize he had drifted off to sleep until he felt the Impala’s movement stop and heard the engine cut off.  He slowly opened his eyes and took in the scenery before him.  Dean had pulled the Impala off the road parallel to a river with a picturesque fence running all the way down as far as Sam could see.  There were trees lining up spaced just enough to create a semi secluded area.  His sleep fogged mind finally realized that Dean was already out of the car, a six pack under one arm and a bag of fast food hanging from the other.  Dean turned back towards the car and called out, “You can sleep all day if you want Sammy, but I need a beer and some grub.”

Sam got out of the car and stretched.  He watched as Dean futzed with the food and beer and then leaned against the fence and began to eat.  Sam gazed out across the area as the light from the sun glinted against the rippling water. His attention was drawn inevitably back to Dean.  The shadows from the trees played patterns across his brother, somehow making the image seem fleeting and nostalgic.  Sam's heart began to race as he decided, then and there, that he wouldn’t leave this place until he got some answers.

**Author's Note:**

> So you will notice I left out the final scene in this episode. It will be handled in full at the beginning of the next story. I didn't want to break it in half the way canon does. I love it in the show, but I just didn't want to cut it apart. Selfishly this way better serves my own story. 
> 
> I love this episode so very much. It is one of my favorites. It hurts so good, and the way Dean's heart breaks when he shuts the door and locks it. That moment when he turns and shuts his eyes, ugh... Jensen Ackles will be the death of me. That man is so talented. And then when Sam is crying begging Dean to leave, and then he throws his fit and then he is so shocked when Dean says "who says I want to." Jared's acting in that part is just painfully beautiful. Dean's voice struggling to hold it together, ugh... I could just go on and on for hours gushing over that one scene. 
> 
> Anyhoo, this one was a doozy for me to write. And I know the closer we get to the end of this season, the harder it is going to be for me. This show is the best thing out there I swear. But I guess I am preaching to the choir about that. 
> 
> I love you all so very much!! Your kudos and comments really keep me going, you have no idea. I can never thank you all enough for supporting me on this incredible journey through each episode. I hope you are still enjoying the ride as much as I am. Gotta go roll up my sleeves and get to work on the next episode. *deep breath*


End file.
